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October 11, 2016

My Daddy's Journey to Heaven...

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”Psalm 34:18
It's a strange feeling mourning the loss of your father before he even passes. But that's in fact what happened. Anticipatory grief can be just as intense as the conventional kind of grief that's felt after a death. At least it was so for me. I cried more before my dad died than I did after.

There was always a sadness and heaviness in my heart knowing that my dad had stage four gastric cancer. The fear of the possibility of death was always there, but we held out hope for some kind of miracle....some kind of treatment that would slow the tumor down... that would stunt its growth. Until that one day...

That one day when Dad was in the hospital, his body severely weakened by malnourishment caused by the removal of his stomach, that he was ready to have "the talk" with his doctor. One thing I've learned is that doctors don't always tell you the whole truth. They only tell you part of the truth in an effort to keep hope afloat. Dad was ready to ask them the big question.

How much time do I have left?

They danced around the question for a while. They came back with a question of their own. If we can get you healthy enough for chemo, would you want to pursue that option? Dad responded, what are my chances of survivial? If they are not good, then I just want to go back to my home in Texas to die there.

The doctors understood his need to know and they left the room to consult one another. One oncologist and two surgeons. The two surgeons came back later on that day and talked candidly with my dad. They said they all agreed that Dad was not a good candidate for chemo because he was so weak. And that the tumor, which was surgically removed three months earlier along with his stomach, had come back with a vengeance. It had regrown to the size of a brick and was now attacking his liver. His time was short and they said if Texas is where he wanted to be, then they needed to act fast to dismiss him from the hospital in Kansas to get him home to Texas. They never gave hime a time frame. They said only God knows the answer to that question. They only said it would be very soon.

All the hospital staff understood the gravity of his situation. They understood Dad didn't want to die in a hospital. So they indeed acted quickly. They set up all kinds of procedures and meetings. Things that would probably take days to do under normal circumstances were all happening in a matter of hours. Social workers helped us set up hospice care. The surgeons installed a biliary drain to his liver. The mass on the left side of his liver was squeezing it restricting the bile from properly draining. Because of this he already had Jaundice and an infection. They said Sepsis could kill him faster than the cancer so the drain would "give him more time".

He was dismissed from the hospital on a Saturday morning. We took him home so he could rest for the remainder of the day. The next day, Sunday, we helped him into a mini van. The back seats had been taken out and replaced with a twin size mattress. We filled up the van with pillows. Anything to make him comfortable for the five hour trip back to Texas. We all followed in our cars. We made a train so to speak. Following Dad on his journey to Texas.

It was an emotional drive for me. I think I cried the whole way over there. Just knowing why he was going home made my heart fill with grief. That's when the mourning process started for me. When all treatment for prolonging his life ended and his journey home began. I shed many tears during that time. Some in private. Some while with him when I hugged him and held his hand and told him over and over I loved him. I played with his hair. I kissed his face. I gave him medicine. I helped feed him when he would try to eat. I fed him water through a straw when he was too weak to help himself anymore. I did all those things knowing where this was leading. Knowing we didn't have much time left.

Dad passed away on a Thursday evening September 29th. He was in hospice care only eleven days. I've been through my share of hard times. I've had a few broken hearts before. I'm even a cancer survivor myself. Uterine cancer back when I was nineteen years old. But I've never gone through anything as traumatic as this. It's torture watching your dad suffering in pain and fading away right in front of you. And there's nothing you can do about it except be there for him and love him the best you can.

I spent the last three weeks of Dads life with him. A time I will always treasure. I took lots of photos and video. I was afraid that with time I would forget certain things like the sound of his voice. So I took video after video trying to capture all those small moments. There are so many wonderful memories I will carry in my heart forever. There are also the few moments I would rather let go and forget. Like those last three days when we all just prayed, Lord please take away his suffering or take him home to heaven now. Three days full of despair, distress, sorrow and emotional pain. But they are the last few moments of my dads life so I will take the good memories with the not so good ones and carry them both in my heart forever.

How can it be that a disease can move in so quickly and squeeze the life out of someone? It took only three months from diagnosis to the end. Cancer is horrendous. I've seen what it does to someone and it's not pretty. Dad fought a good fight. He was so brave and faced his end with so much grace. He never complained. He was the one to comfort us and tell us everything was going to be alright. Just like daddies do. He found comfort in his faith and did not fear death because he was sure where he was going and he knew he'd be in a better place, forever with Jesus. About a week and a half before he died he said, Soon I am going to be with the Lord, and for that, there is happiness. He had us all in tears but I am comforted with the knowledge that life doesn't end with death. I haven't lost my dad. I know where he is. He is in heaven with the lord just as he said. And that brings great comfort to my heart. He is in better hands now with The Great Physician. No more suffering, and no more pain. And I have faith that I will be reunited with him one day.

My son playing How Great Thou Art at his funeral.

It was one of his favorite hymns.

My beautiful, sweet, precious dad...

...how can you be gone so soon...

...until we meet again.

Nov. 21, 1946 - Sept. 29, 2016

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.”Matthew 5:4

8 comments:

My heart is really breaking for you. I am so very,very sorry. Right now do what you need to do cry get angry, whatever it takes to feel in control. My dad died of cancer about 10 yes ago. We all though he would make it and stayed hopeful and optimistic. My dad knew is time was up, but we kept believing. The doctors did not warn my family how little time we had, he died in a matter of days. I cried until I made my self quite poorly. I want you to know this to let you know that one day you will be OK with everything, in that you will still miss your dad, but will be able to survive. I hope you will be OK and I am thinking of you right now. Xxx

My heart is really breaking for you. I am so very,very sorry. Right now do what you need to do cry get angry, whatever it takes to feel in control. My dad died of cancer about 10 yes ago. We all though he would make it and stayed hopeful and optimistic. My dad knew is time was up, but we kept believing. The doctors did not warn my family how little time we had, he died in a matter of days. I cried until I made my self quite poorly. I want you to know this to let you know that one day you will be OK with everything, in that you will still miss your dad, but will be able to survive. I hope you will be OK and I am thinking of you right now. Xxx

I am so dreadfully sorry for your loss. Your story moved me to tears and I so know the pain of grief that you are experiencing.... Hold onto those beautiful memories until you meet again. Much Love, Jane xxx

So very sorry for your loss, Beca. I know what you went through as we did the same with my MIL. She was diagnosed in November with cancer and was gone by June. My husband and I were the ones who helped take care of her right up until the very end. That was 11 years ago. My uncle was diagnosed in March of that same year with brain cancer and was gone by September. I cried so much that August when I left the States as I knew it would be the last time I saw him. In a way, I feel that knowing it is going to happen does take the shock factor away. It's still hard, but when my FIL passed away from congestive heart failure within a day's time, that was really difficult to grasp. You are blessed to have spent those last few weeks with your dad and I know it was a blessing to him that he made it back to TX. Sending hugs of comfort and blessings of peace. Tammy

I'm so very sorry, dear sweet Beca. Your father sounds like a wonderful man. Being surrounded by all that love was a beautiful gift in his last golden days here. I can't begin to know your personal grief, but I have also lost both of my precious parents and I know that hole that is in your heart right now. We can only go forward by honoring all those wonderful values and the love that they stood for, passing their stories down for future generations to know. I truly believe they are always watching over us until we meet once again. Sending prayers and my sincere condolences. Hugs xo Karen

Hello Beca, I am really so sorry for the loss of your father. You will be in my thoughts and prayers. It is very hard to lose a loved one and hope you will heal and have wonderful memories of your father. Take care.Big hugs, Julie xo

Hi Beca! I am so truly sorry for your loss. I'm hoping it gives you comfort to know that he's no longer in pain and suffering.Your post described exactly how I felt (went through) when my father was dying. I had never known so much fear and the fear of the unknown.Love and hugs,Oliva

New Mexico, USA

Welcome

Hey there! Bienvenidos a Mi Casa. Translated it simply means welcome to my home. I'm Beca, small town girl, living in the midwest. I'm a pastor's wife, mom of three, child of God, and lover of all things vintage and handmade. This is my blog, my happy place where I share my love of crochet, knitting, crafts, treasure hunting, and anything else that makes me happy. Come on in, have a seat and stay a while. ♥